Take a Chance on Me
by Mewkey
Summary: Lydia needs some time away, and Beetlejuice isn't very happy with the arrangement. As the old saying goes, distance makes us wise. BJxLydia. Cartooniverse. Rated T for mild cursing.
1. Getting Ready

Be gentle with me, this is my first time. Be prepared for several short chapters. It's just the way it broke itself up. Blame my muses.

Disclaimer: Tim Burton (who I am secretly stalking), Nelvana, and Geffen Entertainment own the rights to Beetlejuice, all related characters and content, and my heart. Please don't sue me. Thank you.

And now, I present to you..."Take a Chance on Me."

* * *

Regardless of what she had suffered in this house, Lydia found leaving it was harder than anything she had had to face before in her life. Packing had become more of a chore and less of an excitement now that her days in the house were dwindling. Everything she came across as she cleaned out closet after closet seemed to remind her of the good…and the bad…times she had had during her tenure in this home.

A flash of red caught her eye as she pulled mountain after mountain of black clothing out of the last closet to be cleared. She gently touched the corner of red fabric and recognized it. Gingerly, she tugged it out from underneath the other things and held it up to the light. She stared at the spider web pattern on the crimson poncho and smiled vaguely, remembering many a narrow escape made while wearing it. She clutched it to her bosom and closed her eyes, savoring the memories. After a moment of silence she folded it neatly and placed it in the box in front of her. No matter what else she left behind, this she could never be parted from.

Unlike him. Anger flared up hot and sudden in her breast as she remembered the night she had told him she was leaving.


	2. Two Weeks Ago

Disclaimer: Tim Burton (who I am secretly stalking), Nelvana, and Geffen Entertainment own the rights to Beetlejuice, all related characters and content, and my heart. Please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

"Look, I have something I need to say and if I don't say it all at once I won't say it at all. So just shut up and listen to me ok?"

Beetlejuice looked up from the beetle he was stalking and blinked. His hand shot out and caught his prey. Crunching on his fresh snack, he floated over to the couch and sat down next to Lydia.

"Shoot."

"Ok. Here goes." She took a breath. "I sold the house."

His jaw dropped, half-chewed beetle parts falling onto his tie, and he stared at her in shock.

"No…BJ…don't say anything please. Just let me get this out. Apart from you it's been entirely too empty since dad and Delia moved back to New York, and to be completely honest it's way too big for me anyway. So I sold it, and I'm taking a trip around the world with the money I got for it. Apparently it's prime real estate so I got more than enough to get an apartment back in the city and take this trip. And I need this trip, BJ. I need to get away for a while, go and find myself. It's been crazy this past year, and I just need to get away from this house…from this town…from all of it."

"From me." Beetlejuice suddenly became very interested in a piece of grime on his boot. Lydia was hurt.

"No! Not from you! Well…I mean not JUST from you. Oh…I'm not saying this right at all. I told you not to interrupt me!"

Like most anyone who knows they're hurting a person they truly care about, Lydia sought solace in anger. Beetlejuice just stared at the floor. She took a deep breath and tried again.

"Look…Beej…you know I care about you. You're my best friend. But if I don't do this…If I don't give myself a break…I'm going to crash and burn. I can't run myself ragged like this anymore. So…so I've got to go. I've got to be by myself for a while. For Christ's sake, we've seen each other every day since I was twelve!" She winced as she realized what she had just said. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean it that way…"

Lydia trailed off. Beetlejuice looked like he was going to say something, but then he thought better of it. She made to put her arms around him, aching for some kind of sign from him that he understood and wasn't angry. Instead, he jumped up from the couch and stood just out of her reach.

"Yeah, well…ok then. See ya around babes. Just say those magic words and I'll be out of your hair."

Lydia's hand shot automatically to her hair, expecting to feel BJ crawling around in there considering what he had just said. But no puff of magic ensued, and he continued to stand before her staring at the floor.

She stared at him for a moment, trying to think of what to say. She was hurt at his lack of emotion, and she was frustrated with herself that she hadn't explained properly. As the silence and sense of space between them grew she gave in to her anger and shouted his name.

"BEETLEJUICE! BEETLEJUICE! BEETLEJUICE!"


	3. Back to Reality

Disclaimer: Tim Burton (who I am secretly stalking), Nelvana, and Geffen Entertainment own the rights to Beetlejuice, all related characters and content, and my heart. Please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

Lydia kicked an empty box and flopped down on her couch. Why did he have to be such an asshole? She crossed her arms and stared across the room at the door.

She was just about done packing. Everything except the last two boxes was sealed, tagged, and ready to be shipped to her apartment in New York. She had one suitcase filled with enough clothes for a week (she had Romantic visions of washing her clothes in a clear stream in Italy) and another one with enough books for a month or more. Even though she would be staying at her apartment for a week before she left for Europe, she would be busy unpacking boxes and wouldn't have time to pack suitcases.

She sighed, her chin dropping to her chest. She was tired. High emotions and hard work conspired to make Lydia very sleepy, and before she knew it she was in the arms of Morpheus.

She dreamt of Sandworms. Hideous, four-eyed, striped Sandworms. She ran and ran but she couldn't outrun them. They glided across the sand at impressive speeds, and Lydia kept getting tripped up on rocks and other debris. In the distance, she saw Doomie and put on a burst of speed. As she neared her beloved little car, Doomie suddenly turned into his "Mr. Hyde" form…maroon fur replaced pea-soup metal, clawed paws replaced tires, a smile filled with sharp fangs and insanity replaced the normal happy smile. To Lydia's horror, Doomie turned to face her and revved his engine. He sped toward her suddenly. She looked behind her and saw the Sandworm. She looked back toward Doomie and saw a murderous glint in his headlight eyes. She stopped and covered her head with her arms, her voice lifted in a blood-curdling shriek.

Lydia woke so violently that she fell off the couch, her scream still ringing in her ears. It took her a moment to compose herself and to come to grips with reality. Why the hell…why the HELL was she dreaming about Sandworms after all this time?!


	4. Goodbye

Disclaimer: Tim Burton (who I am secretly stalking), Nelvana, and Geffen Entertainment own the rights to Beetlejuice, all related characters and content, and my heart. Please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

The first thing Lydia unwrapped when she got to her new apartment was her mirror. When she first set it up she had glanced hopefully into it, but was only greeted by her own reflection. Sadly, she sighed and turned to the job at hand.

A week of unpacking passed much more quickly than two weeks of packing. The day she was to leave she woke up at three in the morning to do a last check of the apartment and her luggage. Her flight left at 7:00 so she had two hours before she had to be at the airport.

Everything was where it should be. Lydia collapsed onto the couch for some last minute soul-searching. She stared at the plane tickets in her hand, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Inevitably, her thoughts turned to a certain "Ghost with the Most." Damn. Try as she might, she just could not stop thinking of him. She couldn't believe it had been three weeks with no word from him. She considered summoning him, if for no other reason than to say goodbye. Lydia respected him too much to call him against his will, though. Sadly, she rose from the couch and collected her bags.

As she turned to close and lock the door, she happened to glance into her bedroom and caught sight of her mirror. There Beetlejuice stood, staring at her. He had known when she was leaving somehow and had come…why? She opened her mouth to summon him, but he held up his hand.

Though Lydia would have heard him if he had spoken, no sound escaped his lips. He gazed at her sadly for a moment, and as tears began to spill down Lydia's cheeks he mouthed a single word to her.

"Goodbye."

Lydia let out a sigh and held her hand to her mouth, more to stop herself calling out his name than to hide her tears. She closed her eyes for a moment, just a moment, to regain her composure. When she opened them again, he had gone.

She dropped to her knees, throwing open one of her cases and digging frantically through it. After a few seconds she found what she was looking for. She snapped her case shut, clutching her spider brooch in her hands. She kissed it softly and whispered "goodbye, Beej" before pinning the brooch to her jacket and standing. Lydia took one last look at her mirror and left.


	5. The Other Side of the Mirror

Disclaimer: Tim Burton (who I am secretly stalking), Nelvana, and Geffen Entertainment own the rights to Beetlejuice, all related characters and content, and my heart. Please don't sue me. Thank you.

Wow, some of these chapters are super short! Sorry about that!

* * *

Beetlejuice leaned against the frame of the mirror and tried to compose himself. This wasn't like him. He felt…lost. More lost than he ever had before. He balled his hand into a fist and pounded against the mirror frame. How had he let himself become like this? He was the Ghost with the mother fucking Most! Why waste time crying over some babe?

He knew why. He just didn't want to say it out loud. So he stuffed the truth down once again and sniffled a bit.

Jacques stood silently in the doorway, watching his friend wrestle with his crisis of personality. He crossed his arms and sighed, rolling his eyes. In his personal opinion, Beetlejuice had spent entirely too much time trying to convince people that he was just out for a good time. If the truth were to be known, BJ was only that way when Lydia was around him. When she was gone, Beetlejuice was quieter. Not completely silent, mind you…he had earned his reputation well before Lydia came on the scene after all. But since meeting Miss Deetz, BJ had taken great pains to hide the fact that he had ever once had anything resembling a heart or a conscience when she was present.

Jacques cleared his throat. Beetlejuice spun around, eyes wide.

"Be-attle juice, may I 'ave a…"

"What the hell, Jacques?! Doncha know how to knock?!"

Jacques opened his mouth to respond but before he had a chance, Beetlejuice flew at him and pulled out his "key bone." Jacques fell apart into a jumbled heap of bones on the floor. Beetlejuice cackled wildly and, tossing the stolen bone onto Jacques' head, disappeared from the room. Jacques sighed and called Ginger to help put himself back together.


	6. Letters

Disclaimer: Tim Burton (who will own my brain forever), Nelvana, and Geffen Entertainment own the rights to Beetlejuice, all related characters and content, and my heart. Please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

The first month or two that Lydia was gone, Beetlejuice seemed to be determined to get himself locked up. He was in Judge Mental's court so often that he broke his own record. Finally, after Mental had threatened to throw him to the Sandworms (and brought a caged Sandworm to court to drive home the point), Beetlejuice settled down a bit.

After that last trial, Beetlejuice took to skulking around the Roadhouse. For a solid month, BJ didn't leave his bedroom. Every once in a while, Jacques and Ginger would hear him thumping around and muttering to himself, but never did the door open. Finally one day, BJ up and left. He just walked silently from the house, jumped into Doomie, and sped away.

Doomie's tail lights had barely gone out of sight before Ginger was all over BJ's room. Jacques ran after her, intent on stopping her going through BJ's things, but his curiosity overcame him when he entered the room.

Beetlejuice had attached his mirror to the ceiling directly over his coffin-bed. Judging from the state of his bedclothes, it looked like he had spent a lot of time laying there staring up at the mirror during his self-imposed isolation.

"Hey, Jacques! Have a look at this!"

Ginger, hanging from a web directly over BJ's bed, waved some sheets of paper at Jacques. He stepped across the room and took them from her. They were drafts of a letter BJ had been trying to write to Lydia.

"Dear Lydia,

"Hi! How are you? I'm ok. Hope you're having fun. When are you coming home? This is a pathetic letter that I'm not going to send. Love, BJ."

"Dear Lydia,

"Your lips are like pink, slimy, earthworms. Your arms are like boa constrictors that I just want to be squeezed by. Your hair is like a spider web that entangles me. This is so lame…"

"Dear Lydia,

"I miss you. Come home soon."

"Whaddaya think this is about?" Ginger asked.

"I sink eet ees pretty obvious, Gingair."

Ginger blushed and nodded. So it was true…Beetlejuice did have a heart. And Jacques had a funny feeling he knew where to find their friend.


	7. On the Beach

Disclaimer: Tim Burton (who I am secretly stalking), Nelvana, and Geffen Entertainment own the rights to Beetlejuice, all related characters and content, and my heart. Please don't sue me. Thank you.

Ok...this is as far as I've gotten. More chapters coming as soon as I churn them out. Thanks in advance for any reading or reviewing that you do!

* * *

Jacques silently crossed the sand to stand behind Beetlejuice. As expected, Beetlejuice had gone to the beach. He sat in the moonlight, his head sitting next to his body, staring at the waves. Jacques sat beside BJ's head and stared with him.

"You will 'ave to tell 'er when she comes back, Be-attlejuice."

"If she comes back…" Beetlejuice mumbled. Jacques sighed.

"Of course she will come back. This ees not the first time she 'as gone away for a while. And she 'as always come back."

"Yeah…well…" Beetlejuice lapsed back into silence. He found that he wasn't inclined to argue with Jacques.

Jacques sat with his friend for a while, keeping himself available in case BJ decided he needed someone. After a time, Beetlejuice picked up his head, placed it firmly back onto his shoulders, and mumbled something.

"What?" Jacques said.

"I said thhhh…I said thhhaaaahhh…I said thannnnkkkk…I said do you want a ride back to the Roadhouse?"

Jacques laughed and accepted the offer.


	8. Lydia's turn

Disclaimer: Tim Burton (who has once again slipped through my fingers), Nelvana, and Geffen Entertainment own the rights to Beetlejuice, all related characters and content, and my heart. Please don't sue me. Thank you.

I don't know if I like this chapter or not. Read and Review please!

* * *

Mid-summer in Scotland was stunning. There was so much green the countryside seemed to blaze with emerald fire. Lydia had been away for three months and already she had fifteen rolls of film to develop when she got home.

Lydia had begun her adventure in Italy. She tried out her Romantic vision of washing her clothes in a stream and a rather old Italian woman chased her off, shouting unintelligible things at her. Disappointing, to be sure, and instead of attempting it again elsewhere in the country she changed some currency and hunted up the Italian equivalent of a Laundromat.

Regardless of the disappointing laundry venues, the views in Italy were stunning. Old world buildings set against a canvas of azure sky and sea filled her first few rolls of film. Outdoor markets greeted her with friendly (albeit pushy) smiles and offers of the freshest seafood money could buy. Though she had the money for expensive hotels and restaurants, she delighted in staying in youth hostels and buying good food from local markets and family run eateries.

From Italy, she moved up through France and into Germany. Lydia spent two weeks drunk in Berlin, snapping countless photos of the area where the wall once stood, before moving on. After Germany, she doubled back through France and hopped over the English Channel to the UK. She spent another two weeks drunk in London before heading north to Glasgow.

Lydia sat on the bank of the river Clyde and gazed at the sky. Clouds stacked up on one another, heralding a rainstorm. She quickly snapped the last couple of pictures she wanted before the rain began to fall in earnest. She sighed, slipping her camera into a waterproof pouch.

If only she had known that back home BJ was sitting on the beach himself, thinking of her just as much as she was of him.

Lydia raised her face to the sky and closed her eyes. She enjoyed the play of the rain on her face. It felt cleansing, and she needed a good spiritual cleansing. If she was honest with herself, and she rarely was these days, she would admit that the heavy drinking in Berlin and London had more to do with Beetlejuice than with freedom. When she was sober, she was sullen and couldn't stop thinking of him.

Lydia couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something between them had changed subtly. She supposed it had something to do with all the upheaval of the past year or so. Between finally graduating college, holding down a full time job arranging other people's shows at a small gallery, four gallery shows of her own in New York City (and one in Philadelphia), helping her dad and mom move, and making time to keep up on her painting and photography she hadn't had a lot of time with BJ. She knew he didn't like it, but what choice did she have? She'd done her best to reserve at least one day a week to spend with her best friend, and she tolerated his constant interruptions throughout the rest of the days of the week.

"But it was never enough."

The thought had come unbidden to her mind, and to Lydia's surprise she meant it. She let the thought roll around her head for a bit as the rain slacked off. No matter how much she and BJ saw of one another, Lydia always felt like it wasn't enough.

That's what had changed. She had developed an aching need…a burning desire to be near him. Through all the chaos he had always been her rock. She could always depend on him. And when her innocent childhood friendship threatened to turn into a not-so-innocent adult love affair (even if it was only in her head), she had become so frightened that she ran half-way around the globe to get away from it.

The rain had stopped, and a little ray of sunshine smote her in the face for a second. She blinked and came back to reality.

"No." she said out loud to herself. "I can't follow that thought because if I do, I'll just end up hurt. In all these years the one consistent thing has been the way he acts toward me. We're partners in crime, not partners in life."

Lydia giggled a little, appreciating the humor in her words. She hugged herself for a moment against the chill in the air and then stood, wringing the rainwater out of her hair as she turned to walk back. Time to stop thinking about what she had come here to avoid and get dry!

When Lydia got back to the bed and breakfast she was staying in, she wrote a brief letter to her dad and Delia. On an impulse, she also enclosed a postcard for Beetlejuice that said simply "Having a great time. Be home end of the year. Hope you're ok!" She knew he'd be watching the mirror for her to return, so she enclosed cryptic instructions for Delia to take the post card to her apartment and put it on her vanity table in front of the mirror. She also told Delia not to ask questions.

That night, after a quick shower, Lydia went to the local pub…and closed it.

* * *

In case there's a question..."closing" a bar means to go to a bar, spend lots of money, drink lots of alcohol, and stay until closing time.


	9. Closer to Home

Disclaimer: Tim Burton (who I am secretly stalking), Nelvana, and Geffen Entertainment own the rights to Beetlejuice, all related characters and content, and my heart. Please don't sue me. Thank you.

Another super-short one. But I made up for it in chapter 10.

* * *

Beetlejuice lay in his bed staring at the mirror. Since the day he went to the beach he had become a bit more sociable, starting to echo the "ghost" of his former self. He'd played a couple pranks on Poopsie, much to the chagrin of the Monster Across the Street. Still, he spent hours simply staring at Lydia's front door through the mirror. He wanted her to come home. He needed her to come home. And yet, he dreaded her homecoming.

BJ heard a click and glanced at Lydia's door, his heart suddenly in his throat. He heard the rattle of a large set of keys and watched Delia slowly walk into the apartment. His heart fell at break-neck speed down into his stomach.

Delia dropped Lydia's mail on a side table and took herself on a tour of the apartment. BJ could tell she didn't like it much and laughed to himself. She walked into the bedroom and looked at the mirror.

"I don't know why in the world she wanted to keep this ratty old thing." Delia said to herself, running a finger across the top of the mirror. "All it does is collect dust."

Delia shrugged to herself as she pulled Lydia's post card out of her purse. She put the postcard down in front of the mirror, slightly bewildered at Lydia's request. Delia shook her head and left.

Beetlejuice stared at the post card, wondering why Delia had dropped it off. He floated closer to the mirror and was able to read it. It dawned on him that Lydia had written it for him. He smiled as he read it again.

"Well, at least now I know she's coming home."


	10. A Touch of Honesty

Disclaimer: Tim Burton (who has once again slipped through my fingers), Nelvana, and Geffen Entertainment own the rights to Beetlejuice, all related characters and content, and my heart. Please don't sue me. Thank you.

Longer chapter yay! The end is near, and it's shaping up quite nicely. I'm excited to see how it ends! I hope you are too!

* * *

"Unggghhh…"

Lydia stirred. She heard the patter of rain on the window and tried to remember where she was. It came to her slowly: bed…Inn…Scotland…UK…Earth…

She rolled over and put a pillow over her head. She was incredibly surprised by the fact that the pillow swore. Thinking for one wild minute that Beetlejuice had somehow juiced himself out of the Neitherworld and come to find her, she shot out of the bed and held the pillow in front of her eyes. No black and white stripes. She looked suspiciously at the other pillow still in the bed, and found it to be devoid of black and white stripes as well. She stared at the bed, puzzled, for a full minute before realizing she could see the outline of another person under the sheet. And it was moving.

As the figure sat up and pulled the sheet from its general head area, Lydia realized it was a man. Her eyes widened and she quickly glanced down at herself. She was wearing her pajamas. This was not a good sign. "Oh please," she prayed, "please let this not be real. Please let me still be in bed dreaming."

Unfortunately, this was very real indeed. She watched the man reach sleepily for a cigarette and light it, slowly blowing smoke out his nose. He turned to her and grinned sheepishly. She could only stare.

"I believe the phrase you're looking for is 'did we?' And the answer to that question is no."

"Oh thank GOD!" Lydia collapsed into the chair across the room from the bed as intense relief washed over her.

"Och, lass, you've hurt me deep!"

He clutched at his chest and fell back on the bed, a mock pained expression on his face. Lydia couldn't help but giggle.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

He sat back up, laughing.

"I know. S' quite all right. I'd be relieved to not have slept with me as well. You passed out in pub last night and, after making some discreet inquiries as to where you were staying I put you to bed."

"And you stayed because…?"

"Well…you weren't the only one who was pissed last night. I seem to have passed out maesel."

He glanced down at himself, pointing out that he was still in street clothes. Lydia blushed.

"And to avoid yet another awkward question, my name's Paul. And you are…?"

"Lydia."

"Pleasure to meet a yank such as yourself, Miss Lydia!"

Lydia laughed again as she stood. Paul stared at her, grinning. Lydia suddenly became slightly self conscious and pointed to the hallway.

"I'm…I'm going to go…take a shower."

"By all means! Always good to wash the night off before attempting to deal with an awkward situation!"

Paul was trying very hard to make her comfortable. He had a gentle, easy-going way about him that Lydia appreciated. She flashed him a half smile, grabbed some clothes to change into, and left.

When she returned, Paul was sitting in front of the window smoking. He got up as she entered the room.

"Well, Miss Lydia, I believe you at least owe me breakfast for taking such good care of you last night! Would you care to accompany me?"

"Oh, I don't know. I should be packing. I'm supposed to leave for Ireland tomorrow…"

"Och, come on darlin. Only a wee bit of breckie. Nothing to be afraid of."

He smiled again. His smile almost reminded Lydia of Beetlejuice. It was full of mischief. Lydia was always a sucker for a mischievous smile.

"I suppose I do owe you something. Breakfast it is."

"Brilliant!"

Paul took her to a small local café, full of pensioners drinking tea and reading newspapers. They traded idle chitchat about themselves. Lydia explained briefly about why she had decided to travel for a while and told stories about where she'd been so far. Paul, she found out, was an out of work actor who lived in Glasgow proper. He had been visiting family in the surrounding countryside and had gone to the pub to escape his Grandmother.

After three months of traveling on her own, Lydia found it nice to have someone to converse with. She hadn't realized how lonely she had been until now. And despite the awkwardness of their initial meeting, she found Paul charming in a way. He was playful and sarcastic. They got on quite well.

After breakfast, Paul invited her to take a tour of Glasgow with him. He took her to the gallery of modern art and the Glasgow Science Center. They went shopping in the Merchant City and had lunch at a cute little pub. After lunch, they hit several more tourist spots, and a few not-so-touristy spots as well. Lydia discovered La Traviata was playing at the King's Theatre and begged Paul to take her. He laughed and acquiesced.

They headed over to the Theatre and Lydia pressed a few pounds into Paul's hand.

"I'm not taking no for an answer. It's been a wonderful day and I want to say thank you."

He grinned that mischievous, Beetlejuice-like grin at her and ran in to buy the tickets. Lydia giggled a little bit as she fluffed her hair and watched people passing by. As she waited for Paul to come out, she thought more about Beetlejuice. He wouldn't have let her pay, she reflected. He also wouldn't have wanted to come. But he would have taken her, simply because she asked. Lydia sighed. She was beginning to realize just how much she really missed him when Paul returned. He wiggled the tickets in his fingers.

"It's showtime!"

Lydia stared at him, her mouth slightly open. His smile faded a little bit.

"What is it? You look as though you've seen a ghost."

She stared for a minute more, and then began to laugh. Suddenly, it all made sense, and she would be damned if she didn't go back and at least try!

"No Paul, I've not seen a ghost. But I intend to as soon as possible. I have to go!"

She spun on the spot and tried to flag a cab. Paul caught her hand.

"Wait, Lydia. What's going on? I thought we were having a pretty good time. Don't leave before I've tried to give you a reason to stay!"

He smiled half-heartedly. Lydia put her hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek.

"You won't understand this, but Paul…you're just too alive for me. Sorry."

A cab pulled up and she hopped in. As the cab sped away, Lydia looked back and waved. Paul just shook his head, wondering what he was going to do with two tickets to La Traviata.

* * *

Once again, in case there's a question...in UK slang to be "pissed" is to be drunk. I didn't mean she was upset, I meant she was in her cups lol.


	11. It's Showtime!

Disclaimer: Tim Burton (who is my new best friend), Nelvana, and Geffen Entertainment own the rights to Beetlejuice, all related characters and content, and my heart. Please don't sue me. Thank you.

Finally done! The muses smiled on me today and told me how to end my story. So here it go. I hope you enjoy it!!

* * *

Trans-Atlantic flights always suck. By the time Lydia arrived back at her apartment she was exhausted. The certainty and energy she had left the UK with had been robbed from her by bureaucratic nonsense when she changed her ticket, flight delays, the snoring of her seat mate, and long lines at the customs desk. She flopped on her bed and stared at the ceiling for a minute.

Lydia glanced at her vanity and saw her postcard sitting there. The mirror, however, reflected only herself and her bedroom. No matter how tired she was (or how frightened of what might happen) she decided that she couldn't wait until tomorrow. She opened the drawer of her bedside table and rummaged around for a moment, finally finding her old oil lamp. She scooted the table directly in front of her, filled the lamp with oil, set it down, and lit it. Gathering her courage, she spoke the incantation to take her to the Neitherworld.

"Knowing that I should be wary, still I venture someplace scary! Ghostly haunting I turn loose! Beetlejuice Beetlejuice BEETLEJUICE!"

A moment later, Lydia found herself standing outside the roadhouse. For the first time since she'd been coming here she was nervous. She knocked tentatively at the door. Jacques answered.

"Why, Lydia! I thought you would not be back until zee end of zee year!"

"Yeah, well…I decided to come back early. I felt…a little homesick."

Jacques smiled a knowing smile and stepped aside to let her in.

"Is BJ here?" she asked.

"Oui. It is his daily sit in bed and feel sorry for heemself time."

"Why's he feeling sorry for himself? Don't tell me he's still mad at me!"

"You weel 'ave to judge zat for yourself." Answered Jacques. Something about his smile made Lydia suspect BJ wasn't angry at all…

Lydia pushed open the door to Beetlejuice's bedroom and called his name. There was no answer. Upon entering, she saw BJ asleep in the bed. She felt a pang of fear as she realized his mirror wasn't in its usual place. She glanced around the room and finally noticed it nailed to the ceiling. She smiled slightly…so this is what Jacques had meant.

She took a step and heard a crunch. Lydia had stepped on a beetle that had been making an escape attempt from BJ's snack jar. Where Lydia's soft voice had failed, the sound of a crunching insect succeeded. Beetlejuice woke up angry.

"Jacques, how many times do I gotta tell ya to…!"

Beetlejuice's voice died in his throat as he saw Lydia standing in the doorway. She smiled.

"Sorry, Beej. Guess I ruined your dinner."

Beetlejuice jumped out of bed and turned himself into an extremely happy dog. He jumped into Lydia's arms, licking her face and wagging his tail excitedly. She laughed. In a flash, he had turned back into himself, picked her up in a huge bear hug, and spun her around a few times.

"Lyds! Babes! Your back! When did you get in?!"

"Put me down! I just got back a few minutes ago and I'm tired as hell!"

Beetlejuice set her back down on the floor, staring hard into her eyes. She held his gaze for a moment, and then broke away.

"Beej, I have something I need to tell you."

"No."

The word came as a shock to both of them. Beetlejuice didn't know what he was going to say next, so he decided to settle back and see what came to him.

"Look, I have something I need to say," began Beetlejuice in an echo of what she had said to him months ago, "and if I don't say it all at once I won't say it at all. So just shut up and listen to me ok?"

Lydia nodded and sat on the bed.

"The reason I got so mad is we never seem to have any time to hang out anymore. You're always busy, even on the days you say you're going to come over here. And yeah, ok, so you're grown up now. But we used to have a laugh, right? And I don't know how you feel about things now…or about me…but well…I mean, like I said, you're grown up now. And…well…I wanna see you more often. But not just see, like you and me hang out…"

Beetlejuice was trying to put everything he'd been feeling since she'd been gone into words, and failing at it miserably. No matter how much he tried for her, Casanova he was most certainly not. So he fell back on simple, honest language.

"I love ya, babes. It's always been you and me, know what I mean? I missed you like crazy after you left, and now that you're back I wanna spend every damn day with you. I really do love you. So whaddya say?"

Beetlejuice turned himself into a hand of five card draw poker. His trademarked arrogance showed through a little bit in his choice of cards to be…he had turned himself into a royal flush in spades.

"Take a chance on me?"

Lydia laughed and cried at the same time. She had come prepared to say a million things, and BJ had just said them all. She stood up and threw her arms around him, kissing him deeply. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the floor again, elated. After a long moment, they finally broke their embrace.

"Love ya too, Beej." Lydia whispered, running her fingers through his hair.

Beetlejuice held her close for a moment, enjoying the feel of her body against his. A wicked thought popped into his head and he smiled an evil smile. He pulled back and looked into her eyes, a glint of mischief showing behind his.

"Hey babes," he said, "Care for a little necrophilia?"

Lydia shouted with laughter as she pulled his lips to hers.

"It's showtime!" she whispered into his waiting, eager mouth.

The End


End file.
